


A Couple Things

by silbecoo



Category: Selfie (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-29
Updated: 2015-02-19
Packaged: 2018-03-09 13:49:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3252131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silbecoo/pseuds/silbecoo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Henry and Eliza both have a few realizations. (One shot, maybe....)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Eliza peered at her reflection. Just two short weeks had passed since she’d taken a pair of not so sharp shears to her long and expensive locks (let’s be real here, lux hair extensions in that shade of red were not something to be had at your local salon.) What she had come to realize in those two weeks were two things. The first was that cutting her hair as a symbol of her personal growth, and all around inner awesomeness was not something that other people could read. This was a truth she came to know when exactly  no one commented on her newly minted status as a hella confident individual defined by  no one  else.

Surprisingly almost no one even commented on her new look. It was astonishing to her, because as unattractive as she’d viewed herself in high school with that ratty mess of uneven and hellishly dried out ends, at this point it her life she was fairly certain she could def work a chic bob any day of the week.  And yet, much to her ever increasing dismay, she couldn’t seem to find anyone around who even spared her new do a second glance, and more importantly she didn’t think her new aura of confidence was radiating quite like she’d expected. (She forgave Charmonique’s inattention. The woman changed her hairstyle/color daily, sometimes bi-daily, and surely found it tedious to comment on something as mundane as a change in length.)

This assessment was still pending, since she’d yet to encounter the one person whose opinion actually mattered. Henry had been called away on business (some PR nightmare involving liquid laxative mislabeled as gas drops, hashtag yikes). 

This was the second thing that she’d learned in the past two weeks. She missed Henry Higgs, and not just in that normal, hey-I-miss-hanging-out kind of way. No, she missed him in an aching way. A pain she hadn’t felt since she’d left her vintage bubble flap Chanel bag on the subway the first time she’d visited NYC. She’d felt the phantom touch of soft buttery leather under her fingertips for weeks afterwards, and seen the damn thing nearly every time she closed her eyes.

But  this feeling was so much worse, because the things she missed were things at one point she would have been happy to have been rid of. The way he said her voice sometimes, three syllables infused with more frustration than she’d ever heard. And that was saying something, there was a long list of people in Eliza’s life that found her exasperating. She shouldn’t have missed it, and especially shouldn’t have missed the way the corners of his mouth twitched downward as she launched into one of his Higgs-patented lectures.

But she couldn’t help compare the passion with which he said her name to the sing-songy way Freddie chirped at her passing by her desk. Eliza felt more affection when Henry growled her name in that adorably grumpy way he had, something a little darker swirling in the pit of her stomach when she caught his eyes.

That in itself was really unfortunate, traitorous involuntary reactions letting her know she was totes still pining for one Korean-American pharmaceutical marketing expert. Henry had made it perfectly clear that he wasn’t buying what she was selling (and probably would have had a problem with her referring to her affections/love as marketable goods, and let’s be honest, she  was the best salesperson at Kindercare, if she’d been selling he definitely would have been buying).

Wasn’t there something that old people were always saying about absence and the heart? She could only vaguely recall the ancient proverb, but she was fairly sure that absence magnified the inappropriate yearning in her soul (and between her legs). She’d idly thought about asking Freddie to take a trip somewhere far far away, thinking perhaps the outer edge of Siberia would be far enough to rekindle the interest she’d once had in him. As it was, she’d settled for instituting a “break,” confident that it would fail spectacularly just like it had for Rachel.

Eliza’s decision to cast aside Freddie may have seemed sudden to the casual observer, and in light of his recent attempts at being what she needed in a boyfriend, it may have even seemed a bit cruel. But it hadn’t taken Eliza long, brandishing her new found self assuredness, to realize that staying with Freddie would have been dishonest, to herself and to him. She couldn’t stay with Freddie just because she didn’t want to be lonely, or because the grouch she’d declared her love for her had almost immediately rejected her (champagne and jager shots may have been the only salve for her tears, but it made for historically poor decisions.)

It was no accident that she’d gotten up an hour earlier than usual this morning, the nerves bubbling in her stomach as she picked out her favorite outfit and carefully applied her makeup. Today, the crisis team would be returning, and at its helm her recently discovered best friend. It also wasn’t a coincidence that her favorite outfit happened to be a seemingly modest gray sheath dress, something she suspected Henry would more than approve of, even though it clung to her like a second skin, only exposing the gentle curve of her creamy shoulders.

She even got to work early, catching Charmonique in the dangerous ten minutes before her morning cappuccino took effect. Eliza’s nerves made her more oblivious than usual, and she excitedly chattered away while her friend simply glared.

“Omg, Char, did you notice how pretty the sky was this morning? It was like totally four different shades of sherbet. I grammed it so I could show my manicurist, totally gotta get that color combo--”

“Eliza…”

“Danielle is like a sorceress with nail polish, she does this cold water thing, and --”

“Dooley…”

Eliza paid no attention to the woman sitting in front of her, fluttering her most recent manicure as she continued. “--- nail art is basically an accessory at this point. You could totes forgo statement rings--”

“Eliza!”

The redhead snapped back to herself, eyes wide as she stared down at a Charmonique, surprised to hear such a sharp note of irritation in her voice as she clutched her coffee cup like a life preserve. “What, Char, did the barista give you decaf again? That basic better get her life right, you’re basically unbearable without caffeine.”

Charmonique shook her head, sipping the coffee as she assessed the willowy woman before her. “Eliza Dooley, you are not a morning person, and neither am I. What is this?” She gestured vaguely up and down her body. “I do not have time to deal with a friend with a newly developed addiction to diet pills.”

Eliza smiled. “Awe, you think I’m a friend. That’s so sweet.”

“Totally not the point.”

Eliza shrugged, taking her declarations of friendship where she could get them. “No diet pills, Charmonique. I’m just… happy.”

“Mmm hmm.”

There was a shrewd not in that inarticulate sound, and Eliza took it the way it was mostly likely intended. She bristled at it, feeling a little bit found out. “What are you mmm-hmm-ing about?”

Draining the last of her cup, Charmonique threaded her fingers together, feeling a little more meddlesome than usual. “Could your happiness have something to do with the return of a certain marketing executive?”

“Oh, is that today?” Eliza’s question was not convincing, and she immediately looked down at her phone, feigning interest in the electronic device.

“It sure is.” She settled back in her chair, arms crossed, satisfied with her read of the situation. “As a matter of fact, Mr. Workaholic came in early this morning, and is already catching up on his backlog of emails.”

Suddenly, Eliza was short of breath, whatever inane conversation she’d initiated with Charmonique completely forgotten. “Henry’s here…” She trailed off, involuntarily turning away from the receptionist’s desk. 

She skipped down the corridor in a stilted run, her heels making things somewhat awkward. Eliza knew she looked like a newborn giraffe when she ran in heels, her long legs taking short little steps while her skinny arms swung outward, but she didn't’ particularly care at the moment.

Stumbling through the door, she saw him first, his back to her as he thumbed through his filing cabinet. It was perhaps her second favorite view of Henry, he first of course being any position she could look him right in the eye. This however, was a  very  close second. Say what you will about the man being uptight, but he sure as hell knew how to dress himself, perfectly tailored trousers outlining a physique that made her mouth water.

As much as she would have loved to enjoy the view, she couldn’t restrain herself from bounding across his office. “Henry! You’re back!”

He turned just in time to catch her barreling toward him, arms extended in acceptance of the hug she was enthusiastically proffering. She clung to him, burying her face in the hollow of his neck. She sighed as his cologne infiltrated her sinuses. She melted a little, the feeling lasting a millisecond before embarrassment crept in.

She pulled away, more than a little self conscious, putting about a foot between them. She opened her mouth, searching for something to say, something to break the strange tension suddenly filling the room.

Before she could form any words, Henry lifted his hand, reaching out to touch the ends of her hair. The action was familiar, and he lingered just a touch too long, a smile spreading across his face. “Eliza, you cut your hair.”

She nodded, holding her breath as she waited to hear what he thought.

His smile widened. “I think it suits you, makes you seem like… you.” He dropped his hand, clearing his throat. “I mean, uh, you were you before, it’s just…” He laughed. “It looks very nice Eliza.”

She let out the breath she was holding in a short chuckle. “Yeah, I think so too.” She had intended to tell him all about her revelation, her moment of stunning clarity as she stood before her bathroom mirror, but she was accosted with an unexpected bout of shyness.

* * *

Henry turned back to the filing cabinet briefly, snatching up the file he’d been looking for. “It’s early yet… Would you like to keep me company while I catch up on work? You can tell me all the juicy goings on and interoffice drama I missed in the past two weeks.”

She nodded, taking the seat in front of his desk. He clicked away at his computer, listening to her recount Sarperstein’s latest obsession, bikram yoga, and the disastrous attempt to include everyone in the office.

“Let’s just say the past couple fridays around here have been more than a little pungent, and I have at least one silk top that will never be worn again.”

She giggled, causing Henry to look up from his computer, a matching grin on his face. “I’m sorry I missed it.” And he was, truly, as surprising as it seemed, he would have loved to have been here with her, complaining about their unconventional boss.

The laughter faded away, leaving in it’s absence a soft smile and sparkling eyes. The breath caught in Henry’s chest, as it was so wont to do when speaking with Eliza. She was so enchantingly beautiful, something ethereal radiating from her presence. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it. Sure, her hairstyle was different, pretty even, but that wasn’t the change he sensed in her. This was something that, to most people would have been intangible, but Henry had become tuned into her in the past several months.

His smile faltered when he remembered the probably cause for her happiness. She was pushing forward in her relationship with Freddie, making great personal strides that, if he weren’t so invested in a different outcome, he would have been cheering for. Looking away, he returned his attention to his computer screen. Tapping away at the keys, he asked her as nonchalantly as possible, “And how are things with Freddie?”

His heartbeat picked up pace, thudding uncomfortably against his sternum. Henry made a mental note to schedule his yearly physical. He couldn’t attribute his physiological reaction, this ache developing in his throat, to jealousy. He was an adult, damn it. He could be her friend, be happy for her as she took each new step in her burgeoning relationship. Even if it seemed that those steps took her further and further from him.

However, lying to himself was easier as a concept than an action. The tightness in his throat prevented him from carrying forward their conversation, even if he wondered at her quiet response. “What was that?”

“We’re on a break.”

  
Henry’s eyes shot up, searching out her face. “What exactly does that mean Eliza?”

**A/N: Please let me know what you think, there's a chance I might continue this, but I don't know.**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Thanks for such nice feedback on the first chapter. I have a lot of fun trying to get Eliza and Henry's voices down. They're such great characters. Chapter 2 here seems to be lending itself to a lengthier multichapter. Here's hoping people are still interested. :D All comments and feedback are genuinely appreciated an re-read a million times.**

It seemed Henry was destined to never know what “on a break” truly meant. Just as Eliza had opened her cherry glazed lips to answer his breathy question, Saperstein himself had slipped through Henry’s open door, a beaming smile spread across his face.

“Henry, my boy, kudos for handling that nightmare of a PR crisis like a champ.” He rounded the desk to clap Henry on the shoulder, pride positively radiating from him.

“Ah, no sir, the credit surely goes to our outstanding public relations team. I merely helped with a few rebranding ideas…” He trailed off, suddenly feeling the weight of the conversation he’d been having with Eliza, his eyes helplessly drawn away from his boss as he peeked over at her.

She looked warm. It was a peculiar thought that jumped into his head apropo of nothing, but he didn’t know how else to describe her glowing eyes or the faint pink flush creeping up her neck. Pink was supposed to be a no-no for redheads, he supposed, but he could think of few things more beautiful than Eliza Dooley blushing, the tiny almost unnoticeable freckles across the bridge of her nose darkening slightly.

Henry was too much in his own head, failing to note the lengthy stretch of silence that settled over the room, but Sam Saperstein wasn’t so much preoccupied with errant thoughts. He could feel the tension in the air between his subordinates, thick like cold syrup hanging around them. He shook his head, mildly disgusted with the inertia that seemed to plague Henry when it came to the delicately boned sales maven seated in front of the desk.

The older man shook his head, clearing his throat with a rattling grunt. “Higgs, I do think the success of our little experiment in synergy has given me an idea.”

Henry swallowed, his attention whipped away from Eliza as he eyed his boss with trepidation. Saperstein’s ideas were always an erratic mix of genius and insanity. “And that would be?”

 

He slipped back in front of the desk, this time placing a hand on the back of Eliza’s chair. “I think we’ve become too complacent in our roles here at Kindercare. You do your best work when confronted with unfamiliar territory. I know just the thing that’ll keep you on your toes. Mental agility is vital component of creativity, after all.”

Henry’s brows furrowed, a confused expression marring his graceful features. “Um, sir, I’m not quite sure what you’re getting at.”

Saperstein brought his palms together in a loud clap, causing Eliza and Henry both to jump in their seats. “Miss Eliza Dooley, top sales rep at Kindercare will mentor you, Henry Higgs, head of marketing.”

Henry frowned. “Surely it would be a better use of my time to focus on my own job, specifically honing the skills required to compose effective marketing campaigns.” He glanced at Eliza, feeling a little short of breath, the faintest sheen of perspiration cooling his skin. “I, uh, ahem..” He was stammering now. “I’m not sure what would be gained…”

“Eliza is the best at what she does, and she’s young and hip to boot.”

“You bet your ass, I am.” She sported a shy smile now, glancing between Sam and Henry. It was the first thing she’d said since she’d very nearly stunned Henry with her declaration of being “on a break,” and it pulled him out of his anxiety.

“Language, Eliza. That’s unprofessional.”

She shrugged. “If you ask me, you’re obsession with perf language skills is a bit condescending, Henry. I did graduate Magna Cum Laude, a couple physical education reqs bumping me totes out of the Summas, but you get it. I’m a boss ass bitch. I know it, and so should everyone else.” She leaned forward, a bit of confidence flowing through her once again, the hair seeming to perform it’s magic once again. “I talk this way because it’s relatable, and an quick way to put my peers at ease.”

Everything clicked into place, and the ever present grin on Saperstein’s face broadened as he had a true epiphany. “That’s it!”

“What’s it, sir?”

“Relatability.” Sliding his hands into his pockets, he rocked back on his heels, fully prepared to manipulate Henry and Eliza into realizing what was best for them. “I hate to say it Henry, but the positive responses in the test groups we show your ad campaigns to have been skewing old.”

Henry was aghast, mouth dropping open as he considered his boss’s statement. “Skewing old?”

Saperstein nodded, feigning disappointment. “Yes, Henry, It’s not a problem yet, but unless you want to be stuck writing radio ads for fiber tablets, I suggest you let Eliza take you under her wing. She’s actually a representative of our most desirable demographic.”

“Most desirable?” Henry felt hot under the collar, watching Eliza’s mirth rise as Sam continued to talk. 

“Of course. Women eighteen to thirty five with disposable incomes. Which is pretty convenient for you, even if she’s lacking the biggest factor in Kindercare over the counter pharmaceutical sales. Motherhood.”

At this proclamation, Eliza’s formerly bubbly enjoyment of the conversation disappeared completely, a brief echo of the jealousy she’d felt when confronted with her pregnant sister making itself known once again. Her mouth snapped shut, and she quickly looked back and forth between the two men in front of her. “MOTHERHOOD?”

Saperstein ignored her strangled question, waving off her red faced sputtering. “Of course, who knows, even that may change in the near future.” He winked at Henry in a most disturbing manner. “ But, even lacking that, she has plenty of qualities that could very well make your approach to marketing a bit more… fresh.”

“Fresh.” Henry and Eliza both seemed to have developed the unfortunate and seemingly moronic habit of repeating everything their boss said.

Spinning on his heel, Saperstein strode from Henry’s office, calling out behind him as he left. “Henry, I expect you to spend all week in sales with Eliza. No arguments, my friend!”

And with that, Saperstein was happily striding down the hall, sure that he had just effectively secured happiness for two people he cared a great deal about.

\---------------

Henry and Eliza stared at each other awkwardly for a full minute, their boss’s words still echoing in their minds. Eliza stewing over the motherhood comment, Henry fretting over doing so much one on one work with someone he spent an inordinate time thinking about kissing.

Eliza was the first to break the silence, propelling herself out of her chair suddenly, nearly stumbling as she rose to her feet. “Well, um… if you’re gonna learn about sales, I suppose you should pop on over to my cubicle. It’s not nearly as nice as your supes fancy leather adorned abode, but it’ll do in a pinch. I have a nine by five print of a _Banksy_ original hanging beside my autographed Grumpy Cat photo, so you’ll have something to look at while listening to me charm the balls off of potential clients.”

She was walking as she talked, and Henry followed wordlessly behind her, somewhat grateful for this forced togetherness Saperstein enacted. It was nice to feel the pull of Eliza and simply give into it as she tiptoed along on her dangerously high heels. “Eliza, please don’t ever use that expression again, no one wants their balls charmed off, and how on earth does one attain an autograph from a famous cat?”

“I knew you loved grumpy cat.” She smiled over her shoulder at him.

Henry laughed, slipping his hands in his pockets as they walked. “Love is a strong word, but I am familiar with the feline. Considering you send me at least one photo of him a day, captioned no less with ‘Higgs, this is totes you, stop being a grouchy little kittty’ it would be strange if I didn’t recognize him.”

“Her, Henry. Grumpy cat is a girl.” They rounded the corner to her cubicle, Eliza snagging a stray rolly chair as they settled into her work area. She plopped down into it, immediately kicking her shoes off, a flash of her bright teal pedicure winking at Henry before she scooted up to her desk. “And, her name is Tardar Sauce, not grumpy cat.” This last sentence was accompanied by a Vanna-White-like gesture as she framed the small poster on the wall of her cubicle. “Verdict, adorbs.”

Henry sat down, frowning as he noted the lack of lumbar support in the tiny chair, trying fruitlessly to adopt a nonchalant pose as he watched Eliza settle in to her job. “I suppose I would be grumpy too if I had such a ridiculous name.”

Eliza donned her headset, custom made apparently, little interlocking LV’s printed across the chocolaty leather covering the thin plastic. “Alright, quiet now, Henry. It’s time for you to learn how to be more relatable.” She pressed one slim finger to two pouty lips in the universal sign for silence, giving him a semi-stern glance.

And with that she entered sales mode, her voice modulating slightly depending in the client she was talking to, hands flying around as she spoke, as though her clients could appreciate the unseen gestures. Henry shivered when she unexpectedly let out a deep throated real laugh, one he so rarely heard.

She was a wonder to watch, intermingling current cyber slang, with medical jargon and the typical schmoozing that went along with selling anything. He hadn’t always respected her, and it was something that he had never been more ashamed of than at this very moment. Eliza was so much more than he’d been willing to see in the beginning.

He was lost in his ruminations, leaning back in his chair as he took her in, the urge to gather her to him and kiss her senseless stronger than ever. This bit of unexpected daydreaming was abruptly interrupted by the object of his affection spinning around in her chair and holding out her headset. “Your turn!”

“Ah, no, Eliza. I,uh, don’t think…”

He couldn’t really tell her that he had been in another world for the past half hour, learning absolutely nothing from her. She would have wanted to know what he had been thinking about, and he most certainly wasn’t prepared to articulate his thoughts on the way her porcelain skin reflected the fluorescent lights.

She sighed grandiosely, getting up to settle the wireless headset over his hair, the tips of her fingers grazing his ears as she straightened it. “Come on, Higgsies, it’s easy, just relax.”

The corner of his mouth twitched at the silly name, and surprisingly he did feel relaxed, anxiety over this experience draining right out of him. In fact, it was as if all his worries flitted away, an assuredness filling the voids they left. It was time to enact his “no fear” policy, and this really seemed like the perfect place to start. Getting into the spirit of things, he said, “Alright, Doolio, hit me with your best shot.”


End file.
